


Stay Gold

by n3mesism



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Het, Romance, i didn't write a fucked up reader for once!, it's almost 8am and i haven't slept this is goona be a good one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5592214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n3mesism/pseuds/n3mesism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are not Ponyboy, he is not Johnny Cade, so maybe this time something gold will stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Gold

You're out of breath, panting because this was much more important than getting air into your lungs and he's leaving to go somewhere. You're standing on the sidewalk together, bodies highlighted by the streetlights. In this light you're both golden, and for a second, you think you're okay.

But then you're really not.

"I can't accept your confession, I—" 

He pauses and in that silence, you think of all your flaws and organize them into a neat and tidy list ready to accept, yet hate them all. "I'm being deployed next week, I want to accept your feelings, but..."

Suddenly, your words are caught in your throat and you feel guilty for making that list of flaws so nicely in your head.

Everyone knows recruitment to the war—the one where no one remembers how it started and no one can picture the end of it their wildest dreams—is enviable for the athletic and the reliable. Sawamura Daichi is so obviously both you wonder how it slipped your mind.

The feeling of calloused fingers gently touching yours bring you out of your thoughts and your gaze meets his for the first time tonight. 

His eyes are soft, his gaze affectionate, he looks like the happiest man on Earth and your first reaction is to blush and look away like the romantic, yet embarrassed sap you are.

He takes one of your hands into his and raises it to rest on his cheek. It's a small gesture, affectionate nonetheless and you can feel your face heating up as the seconds tick by. His eyes close for the moment, as if just being there - being in your presence - is something worth taking in, something worth indulging in and maybe because he's being deployed next week - it is. 

When his eyes open, they're different. A little less soft, a little more resolved and he lets go of your hand.

Instead, he meets your gaze, steady and asks, "can I kiss you?"

You become more embarrassed and can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. Even so, you nod your head. He leans in and presses your lips against his, pulling you close to kiss you deeper. You pull away for a moment before you get too caught up in all of this passion he's displaying.

"I thought you weren't accepting my confession?" You question.

"I'm not." He replies.

The next morning, your bed is cold. He is gone, but at the same time, this was expected. 

You don't see him for the rest of the week, except in passing because you're neighbours and it'd be weird for you not to see each other. You don't talk anymore, especially not of the night he spent in your bed. 

And then one day you stop seeing him, it doesn't click for a few days. He's off fighting in the war, the war that took your mother, your grandmother, your brother.

(You've always been fragile, easily broken with weak lungs, you've never been a candidate for recruitment. You wonder what it'd be like to be someone who had a looming fear of recruitment over their head. Your heart hurts thinking about, your heart hurts thinking of Sawamura.)

You get a letter in the mail so many months later— you've almost forgotten what Sawamura's face looks like, but you've never forgotten how your heart aches at the mention of his name. 

It's addressed to "Mrs. Sawamura," and your fragile, glass heart shatters. You're sobbing on your floor at the end of the letter, clutching it and the gold ring that was inside the envelope. 

You knew you should've expected this after that night, you should've been preparing your soft, fragile heart for this exact moment. 

You've always known nothing gold can stay, and Sawamura Daichi was made of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Dadchi and all you Dadchi fans, hope you have a good one.


End file.
